Just A Little Something
by IcedOverFire
Summary: When you're about to explode from the injustice of it all, what do you do? Chat with a not-so complete stranger, of course. Well, we never said you had to be rational about it.


_So, obviously, I've read Meg Cabot and a whole range of other romance novels. Which is my excuse why this story got to a certain point of sappiness that, I've realized, only Risa can reach. My original plan was actually to just post the conversation of Risa and Omen but then things sorta-kinda got out of hand and...to make a long story short, here we have the end result. _

_Risa's thoughts, in all honestly, are my own by the way. :D Think of me as you will._

--

I need to talk to someone stat! I don't care who—Riku, Daisuke…heck, I'll even sit down _Satoshi_ if only he was in the area (I'd rather he be a last resort though 'cause I can already see his reaction). I just really, really have to get this…thing off my chest! Argh! Where _is_ everybody?!

Oh yeah, _right_, Riku's supposedly 'busy' and Dark's apparently 'held up at a meeting' (kind of weird that they'd both be occupied at the same time, don't cha think?) and Daisuke…huh, now that I mention him, just where _is_ Daisuke right now?

ARGH!

I'm _this _close to exploding and I don't want Riku going into my apartment and finding my insides splattered on all the walls (euch, did I really just think that?) and _I need to_ _talk to someone_! Why is it that when I desperately want company, there's nobody bugging me?

Stupid romance novels…I knew starting on them again would just get me worked up again! Argh! Why do I have to be such a sappy, hopeless romantic?! Why couldn't I be more like Satoshi, with his realistic view on love and the wonderful ability not to be overly-emotional? Hey…speaking of that blue-haired genius…

'_Sorry. The subscriber cannot be reached at the moment. Please try your call again later.'_

So much for that…Argh! Satoshi, you aren't getting a birthday present from me this year, you meanie! Great, I'm now reduced to calling my friends names like a three-year-old. Brilliant.

I turn on my laptop again for possibly the ninth time tonight—on the off chance one of my friends would actually be online for once—and almost cry out in relief. Yey! My savior! I might be grinning like an idiot as I click on the one name active on my list but who cares? I don't have to worry about exploding on the spot or something equally fatal for my health.

--

**DreamCatcher007**: We have it easy, don't you think?

**Omen**: And hello to you, too.

**DreamCatcher007**: Huh? Oh, right. Hi! I'm sorry, my head's still in the clouds.

**Omen**: It's alright. What do you mean by your earlier statement?

**DreamCatcher007**: Hmm…I'll change the question. Can you imagine living in the 1700's?

**Omen**: Yes.

_**DreamCatcher007**__ has logged out. _

_The last message was sent at 6:12 PM, 08/01/09._

**Omen**: What did I say this time?

_You appear invisible to __**Omen**_.

**DreamCatcher007**: Could you be a little less blunt?

**Omen**: I believe so.

_**DreamCatcher007**__ has logged in._

_The last message was sent at 6:15 PM, 08/01/09._

**DreamCatcher007**: Oh, fine. Moot point and all that. Anyway, I would crack in a _week_ if I had to have my parents chaperoning me _everywhere_.

**Omen**: I don't think times have changed too much for some people.

**DreamCatcher007**: But we've all moved on from that whole knight in shining armor fad!

**Omen**: Chivalry isn't exactly dead yet.

**DreamCatcher007**: And what I wouldn't give to actually meet someone who fit that bill.

**Omen**: Your romantic notions are still in place, I see.

**DreamCatcher007**: I would call you names if we ever met in person. I hope you know that.

**Omen**: Thankfully.

**DreamCatcher007**: _Anyway!_ It's like the Victorian times were centered on girls reaching the age of 18 and getting married off to rich entrepreneurs their parents chose for them.

**Omen**: Yes, inheriting a huge sum of money is a horrible tragedy.

**DreamCatcher007**: Ha-ha. That was so funny I forgot to laugh. _Come on._ No freedom of choice! What kind of world is _that_?

**Omen**: The 18th century's apparently.

**DreamCatcher007**: Stop being so cynical! Do you have a problem with this topic or something?

**Omen**: Not in the least. I'm merely answering your questions. Rhetorical as they may be.

_**DreamCatcher007**__ has logged out._

_The last message was sent at 6:22 PM, 08/01/09._

_**DreamCatcher007**__ is typing a message. 6:24 PM, 08/01/09._

_You appear invisible to __**Omen**_.

**DreamCatcher007**: _Hey!_ Aren't you worried that I had really logged out and would never speak a word to you ever again?

**Omen**: No. You're here, aren't you?

_**DreamCatcher007**__ has logged in._

**DreamCatcher007**: You're annoying, did you know that?

**Omen**: You say that every time we have a conversation.

**DreamCatcher007**: In hopes that you'd actually listen and change your ways.

**Omen**: Why should I?

**DreamCatcher007**: It's statements like _that_ that make you stick out like a sore thumb among us humble, average humans.

**Omen**: Would you please stop mentioning that?

**DreamCatcher007**: If you'll be cooperative and humor me by properly commenting.

**Omen**: You were saying?

**DreamCatcher007**: So. Frilly dresses, chaperones and suffocation from all those useless rules. What else?

**Omen**: Inequality?

**DreamCatcher007**: _Exactly!_ Why is it that men were the only ones who could work or go into town for business?

**Omen**: Because society was too close-minded?

**DreamCatcher007**: Do you see how easy it is to cooperate?

**Omen**: But is it a fate worse than death to stay at home, managing it and taking care of your children and their education?

**DreamCatcher007**: I didn't say that. And I guess not. But that isn't what everyone aspires in life—even then, I would bet.

**Omen**: Doesn't the idea of gallantry, nobility and security appeal to you? Aren't those times sorely missed by women cheated by their partners?

**DreamCatcher007**: But there was more bad than good! Women couldn't stand up for themselves; they were practically _maids_…only with a better lifestyle.

**Omen**: Yes and the men were their walking bank accounts.

**DreamCatcher007**: Did you really just say that? Type that, whatever.

**Omen**: It's the truth, is it not?

**DreamCatcher007**: I guess…but still…

**Omen**: Yet another thing that hasn't changed over time, wouldn't you agree?

**DreamCatcher007**: Well, gold-diggers had to come from somewhere, right?

**DreamCatcher007**: Can I ask a personal question?

**Omen**: Yes.

**DreamCatcher007**: You're too nice. You indulge me too much. Anyway, were you speaking from experience?

**Omen**: Excuse me?

**DreamCatcher007**: When you said that times haven't changed much and men are still walking credit cards for some women, was that from personal experience?

_The last message was sent at 6:34 PM, 08/01/09._

_**Dreamcatcher007**__ is typing a message. 6:39 PM, 08/01/09._

**DreamCatcher007**: It's just that you sounded kind of…bitter, I guess, when you said it. Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. I'm being insensitive again, aren't I? Um, hello, are you still there?

**Omen**: You're right. I was speaking from personal experience.

**DreamCatcher007**: Wow. I wish I had a big enough bank account to attract gold-diggers.

**Omen**: Was that a serious statement?

**DreamCatcher007**: What? No, of course not…oh, okay, maybe except for the bigger bank account.

**Omen**: So why did you choose 18th century culture as our topic for today?

**DreamCatcher007**: Oh, please. You want me to say I was at the library knee-deep in historical texts, don't you?

**Omen**: You were probably catching up on some of your romance novels, weren't you?

**DreamCatcher007**: That was below the belt! Foul! So, fine, I was reading my romance novels again.

**Omen**: _Historical_ romance novels, I must correct.

**DreamCatcher007**: Forget meeting in person. That was mean. _You're_ mean. I'm never speaking to you ever again! So there. Humph.

_**DreamCatcher007**__ has logged out. _

_The last message was sent at 6:45 PM, 08/01/09._

**Omen**: Alright, I admit that was immature of me. Those were awful insinuations. I apologize.

_**DreamCatcher007**__ has logged in. _

**DreamCatcher007**: Thank you. Romance novels make the world go round, you know.

**DreamCatcher007**: And before you go all _gravitational force_ on me, I'm telling you to erase whatever you just typed right now because no, Mr. Genius, there isn't any scientific data backing up my 'romance novels make the world go round' statement. Happy now?

**Omen**: Sufficiently.

**DreamCatcher007**: You wouldn't last a day in the 18th century, I just know it.

**Omen**: You believe that you can?

**DreamCatcher007**: Why of course, a lady knows how to adapt to every situation.

**Omen**: A lady would.

**DreamCatcher007**: That was your way of saying I'm not a lady without actually saying—urgh, I mean typing—it, right?

**Omen**: Words from your mouth, not mine.

**DreamCatcher007**: _Well_.

**DreamCatcher007**: Fine, fine, whatever. You still wouldn't last a day.

**Omen**: For what reasons, pray tell?

**DreamCatcher007**: You're too cold, in the lab-coat-wearing-scientist sort of way.

**Omen**: Doctors and scientists were highly regarded during that time. New developments people never fathomed were created in that period and so the richest would marry inventors, and their patents, to double or triple their net worth.

**DreamCatcher007**: I should find your know-it-all-ness repulsive.

**Omen**: Pardon me?

**DreamCatcher007**: I should, but I don't since I have too much fun arguing with you. So do you think you can survive in the 18th century then?

**Omen**: Without a doubt.

**DreamCatcher007**: Ooh, look who's suddenly so full of himself.

**Omen**: Self-confident, not arrogant.

**DreamCatcher007**: I know, I know. Sorry for insulting you, O Great One. Still, whoever you marry should be alright with not seeing you more than three times a week.

**Omen**: Probably.

**DreamCatcher007**: I say, good luck to her. And more importantly, good luck to you, O Aloof One. Oh my God, I just remembered, you had that contract signing deal thing yesterday, right? How'd it go, how'd it go?

**Omen**: It couldn't have gone better, truthfully. I'm simply relieved we got out of it alive.

**DreamCatcher007**: Awesome!

**Omen**: So have you exhausted your topic enough yet?

**DreamCatcher007**: I don't think so…but my sister's been calling me for the past hour and a half. I better get out of here.

**Omen**: Okay, then.

**DreamCatcher007**: Bye!

_**DreamCatcher007**__ has logged out_.

_**Omen**__ has logged out._

_The last message was sent at 6:57 PM, 08/01/09._

--

I bite my lip, guilty for lying to my chat-buddy. It's just that…oh, I don't know, I just suddenly don't want to talk anymore. I guess I don't want to learn anything more personal about him—which is weird since I normally _love_ snooping around in other peoples' lives.

But God…

_He seems just like Satoshi! _

I rub my eyes in annoyance.

Okay, fine, _there_, it's out in the open. He reminds me so much like my blue-haired friend who suddenly went AWOL on me that I got scared. Why? I don't know! I really, really, _really_ don't know! Maybe there's some weird glitch in my brain that makes me incapable of befriending two people who have the same personality or something. Yeah, that's it.

But lots of my friends are alike in one way or the other! Oh my God, I should have just allowed myself to spontaneously combust.

I flip my phone open, hoping against hope that Riku had really called to invite me to dinner and that I didn't have to be left alone in my apartment with my thoughts metaphorically eating me alive. Typical, she didn't call. But, hey…someone else did. I glance at the clock on my laptop—wow, have I been sitting here doing nothing for that long?—and quickly dialed the one person I'd have thought to be the last one to return my call.

There's a click on the other line before a soft grunt reaches my ears. I wince, again assailed by guilt—Satoshi's somewhat (you know, if 'somewhat' actually meant 'really bad' now) insomniac, I know, so I didn't think he'd be asleep at seven-thirty in the evening. Great, he hardly sleeps eight hours a night and here I am interrupting it. Good going, Ris, maybe next time you can dump your garbage in front of the building and then spray aerosol into the air.

"Risa, what's wrong?" he asks me after a few seconds of silence. He's probably already sitting up in his bed with his glasses already on his face, ready to rescue me from whatever I might have gotten myself into this time. He's a really sweet guy and I don't think I say that to him enough.

"Hey, Satoshi, it's nothing. I was just calling you back, you know, to reassure you that I haven't been kidnapped for ransom or whatever." He laughs a little sleepily and I heard his sheets rustling in the background.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to return your call earlier. I just came back from Tokyo an hour ago so my phone was off." I almost hit myself after hearing that. So he was jetlagged _and_ asleep. I should be given a medal for my thoughtfulness.

"So that's why I haven't heard a thing from you in days. I was starting to worry you were reverting to your hermit ways." I smile, remembering all the things I got Satoshi mixed up in when we were younger. Though, in hindsight, they were the things that helped him be more sociable.

"Hardly, I've learned my lesson." I'm pretty sure he has a smile on his face and I can't help the blush that stains my cheek for only-God-knows-why. Ahem.

"Okay, you go back to sleep and..."

"Risa, why did you call me earlier? Did you want to talk about something?"

For some inexplicable reason (again), I feel tears clouding over my eyes. I stifle the sob that wants to wrench itself out of me. "No...Satoshi, it really can wait tomorrow. Don't worry about it, it was just a little thing. I'm alright now, really."

"If you're sure, Risa," his deep voice washes over me like a warm blanket. I really am that much of a sap, aren't I? Get yourself together, Risa, this is Satoshi we're talking about.

"Yes." But I know he isn't convinced.

"We can talk tomorrow if you still want to," he offers, catching me by surprise.

"But you'll be busy. It's not something that..."

"Risa, you called me, of all people, so I know it must be of some importance to you. It's really no problem for me."

I bite my lip. I heard the hurt that had crept into his voice, though I know he didn't mean it to. Was that how he thought of himself? Was that how _I_ treated him?

"Okay, let's talk tomorrow. Right now, you need to sleep," I finally give in but I know Satoshi won't go against me on the sleep thing.

"Good night, Risa."

"Sleep tight and sweet dreams, Satoshi."

_Click._

I smile.

"And thank you," I whisper to the empty room, "Thank you very much."

--

_This should be a relatively short three/four-shot, you know, if I don't get sidetracked and my long-winded-story-loving side doesn't do a hostile takeover on me. :) _

_No, really, this was meant to be a light and fun fic, not too sure I achieved that though. The last parts seemed kinda deep, don't you think? No? Wait, I've got to cut this A/N here or I'm just gonna keep on babbling nonsense. :D _


End file.
